You and your significant other enter a restaurant and you see an advertisement for endless bread. You order it with a big smile. You love bread. The waitress arrives with a small loaf of bread, both ends cut off.
I stare at the bread uncomprehending for a moment. Then it occurs to me.
“Well, that’s uh, quite the pun… I guess…” the love of my life, Lucinda, says awkwardly from the other side of the table. I, however, am livid.
“Please tell me this isn’t the only loaf of bread I will be receiving tonight,” I say testily, trying to keep my voice down.
“Well sir, of course it would be. Why would you need more? After all, it’s endless,” The waiter explained.
“You dare do this to me?” I whisper, getting up from the table to reveal my suit made entirely out of pictures of bread stapled together. “You dare?” I ask the now-alarmed waiter as I pulled out my wallet, revealing more pictures of bread instead of family photos. One loaf has a mustache.
“Please, please John, not again…” Lucinda begs. I don’t listen.
“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!” I screech, revealing a mouth where every one of my teeth has been replaced with a small metal grinder shaped to look like a loaf of bread and primed for peek performance bread chewing. “DO YOU THINK THIS IS A GAME?!”
The waiter recomposes himself, even as Lucinda begins to cry. He smiles at my gaping maw and red face with absolute professionalism.
“Sir, might I suggest you try a slice of the bread in question, before you become enraged?”
I narrow my eyes dangerously, but grab the bread knife, sawing into the bread as though it were a femur in surgery. I grab the butter knife and lather on enough butter to kill a lesser man. I stuff my mouth full, my bread teeth work soundlessly to turn the bread to mush that is ready to be swallowed and digested.
The waiter watches as I take another slice. And another. And another.
“John… John slow down…” Lucinda gasps as I continue my feast. Five slices turn to ten and to fifty. Still I eat. My pants stretch, and my button pops. I keep taking slices. The loaf diminishes in size but never runs out.
“ENDLESS BREAD!” I scream between mouthfuls. Tears of happiness run down my cheeks as I continue. Lucinda rocks back and forth in her seat, her fingers hover over the buttons of her cell phone but she does not dial, eyes fixed on mine as I grow fat on the spoils of the Endless Bread.
The waiter watches as well. At first with a smile, now with a blank expression.
I feel a pain in my gut. I don’t stop eating. It’s too good. And Endless. And chewy. So, so, gloriously chewy. I must get my money’s worth. I must keep eating the bread.
My stomach ruptures. As I bleed out in front of my wife and the waiter, I don’t stop eating. Lucinda has put the phone down. Her eyes are empty. She sees my sins for what they are. She will be happier with me gone.
The waiter watches as the light fades from my eyes and at last my hands and mouth still. He turns to my wife as the world fades around me.
“Today, I would recommend the halibut and fresh garden vegetables. We also have a nice salad with dressing made in house!”
“That… sounds nice…” I hear my wife say with a dazed tone, and her voice fades out. Then, and for the rest of eternity, all I can hear is chewing.
HOLY SHIT
You know when you read something and it changes your life? This is it.
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